


Unspoken Rules

by LilMcGill



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baz can see in the dark, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Simon can't, Smut, They're both 18, eighth year, or can he?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMcGill/pseuds/LilMcGill
Summary: Simon and Baz develop a nightly routine. In the daylight they pretend it's not happening.





	1. Rule 1.  It Only Happens in the Dark

The first time it happened, it was Baz's fault. Or maybe he could blame it on Wellbelove, she was at least partly responsible. No, it was definitely Baz's fault.

He was reading in bed, having already fed and then gotten into his pyjamas. Snow burst into the room. (He was always bursting into rooms.) (He was always bursting full stop.) His tie was hanging loose around his neck, his shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned, and he was more of a mess than usual. He was moving awkwardly, and he kept readjusting his crotch. 

Baz had skipped the “Welcome to Watford” festivities that evening. He wasn't ready to socialize yet, and he was in no hurry to be exposed to First Years who barely had control of their magic. He had enough of that with his incompetent roommate. Baz had attended Welcome to Watford in previous years, so he knew that the older students used the confusion and chaos to pair off in various closets, stairwells, and unused classrooms. Which was obviously where Snow and Wellbelove had been.

“You know, if you don't take care of that, you'll ache all night and your restlessness will interrupt my sleep.” He said this without his eyes straying from the page he was reading. Baz couldn't help himself. It had been a long summer without goading Snow daily and he couldn't wait to get back to their routine. 

“Fuck off.” 

Snow grabbed his pyjama bottoms and went into the bathroom. (He wouldn't sleep in a top until at least November.) (Which Baz both hated and loved.) Baz expected Snow to stay in the bathroom a bit longer than his usual 5 minutes, and he was preparing to taunt him for it. But of course, The Chosen One would never do something so base as wank in the shower. One glance at his pajama pants when he stepped back into the room confirmed to Baz that he had not. (Could he help where his eyes were drawn?) (No, he could not.) 

Despite his unparalleled self control, Baz blushed. He immediately regretted that he had fed so well in the Wavering Wood earlier. Snow obviously noticed, because he started to blush too. And then he blustered. 

“I-um-just-I-Oh, go to bed!”

“I'm in bed, Snow.”

“Just-just-turn out the light then.”

Baz still had taunts prepared that he hadn't been able to use. He needed to get in one last jab. “If you're going to attempt to take care of your little problem now that the lights are out, please do so quietly. And keep your magic under control. I'd prefer our room not catch fire the first night. ”

That earned Baz a "Fuck you," then he could hear Snow settling in his bed. The thing Baz had missed most over the summer was watching Snow sleep. Snow didn't share Baz's vampire ability to see in the dark, but he seemed to sense when Baz was staring at him, so it was risky to indulge before Snow was actually sleeping. Baz waited for the sleep sounds with which he was so familiar. They didn't come. 

Baz was impatient, and still a little worked up from what he'd seen earlier. He just wanted one quick look, that would be enough to feed his dreams. Baz turned his eyes toward the other bed. Snow was definitely not sleeping.

Simon Snow was lying on his back and he had his left hand down the front of his pants. Baz briefly wondered if Snow knew how well Baz could see in the dark, and was just taking the piss. But there was definite movement, and sounds, and Baz had enough personal experience with wanking to have no doubt about what was happening in the next bed.

Baz was transfixed. Before he realized what he was doing, he had his hand down his own pants. With every rise and fall of the top sheet on Snow's bed, Baz pictured Snow's hand moving up and down on his cock. He imagined the precum that was probably there, and felt the wetness at his own tip. He wondered how Snow was gripping himself, he imagined he liked it a little rough.

Soon, Baz matched Snow's tempo, stroke for stroke. Snow sped up, and he began to grunt quietly. Baz sped up as well, but kept his noises under control. He'd had to hide them from Snow before, he was practiced. 

Snow's climax was the most beautiful thing Baz had ever seen. He slowed his stroking so he could focus on Snow's face, saving every detail for future fantasies. Baz then replayed the scene in his mind, and he was coming too, head tipped back, biting a hole in his tongue to keep from crying out. 

When he could see past the white glow of one of the best orgasms of his life, he turned his head and took one more quick look at the other bed.

_Fuck Fuck Fuck!_

Snow's eyes were open and directed towards Baz's hand, which was still buried in his pants. He knew Snow couldn't see in the dark. But still. If Snow knew that Baz watched him wank, if Snow knew that Baz was wanking at the same time... Baz was humiliated at the possibility. Worse, he was already half hard again.


	2. Rule 2. We Do Not Speak Of It

The next morning Snow bounded out of bed, as he does (he's much too chipper in the morning). Baz pretended to still be asleep. Snow behaved exactly as he had every morning previous. There was no indication that anything unusual had happened in the night. 

When Baz arrived at breakfast, he went to his usual seat with Dev and Niall. Baz sneered at Snow across the tables, and Snow sneered back. Wellbelove tried to discretely catch Baz's eye, and he made sure Snow was looking before returning her look. Bunce tried to keep Snow calm, and Baz tried to get a rise out of him. All completely normal. Baz thought maybe Snow hadn't seen anything after all.

After three days of nothing out of the ordinary, Baz began to put it out of his mind. (Except for his fantasies.) (But only when he was fantasizing far away from Simon Snow.) (He wasn't taking any chances.)

On the fourth night it happened again. Baz couldn't blame Wellbelove that time. (Not that he could blame her before.) (He still wanted to share the blame though.) Baz happened to know that she had a dressage competition in Lancashire that weekend, and her parents had taken her out of school a day early. 

It had been another perfectly normal day of Baz and Snow sneering at each other. Snow had apparently decided that Baz was plotting something again, because he was following Baz everywhere, just like he did in Fifth Year. Without Wellbelove to keep him occupied, Snow even showed up in the stands during football practice. Baz glared at him from the pitch whenever he could.

He and Snow had their usual fight about the window that night. It got more heated than it had in a while, devolving quickly into name calling and threats. Baz didn't let up until he could feel Snow's magic start to leak. He threw one last insult before sauntering off to the catacombs to feed. 

The light was out when Baz returned, but Snow was clearly not sleeping. He was in his bed, curled toward the wall, but his breath was too shallow. Baz went ahead with his bedtime routine in the dark. He climbed in to bed and once again risked a quick look at the still-very-much-awake Simon Snow.

Snow had turned and was lying on his back, right arm stretched out behind his head showing off his bare torso to perfection, left hand down his pants again. His head was turned toward Baz's bed, but Baz convinced himself that Snow still couldn't see in the dark. Baz kept his eyes on Snow's as his hand found his own hardening cock. He synched their rhythms again. 

When he could tell Simon was getting close, Baz tried to break rhythm and slow his own strokes. He wanted to outlast him. Not because he was competitive, although that was always a factor for Baz, and he was absolutely going to feel pride when he succeeded. But the main reason was that Baz wanted to watch Simon come undone again, and he wanted that image to send him over the edge as it had the time before. 

He couldn't quite make it. Simon's grunts and the sound of his hands pumping his cock faster and faster proved more than Baz could withstand. Simon was so much louder than he'd been the night before. Baz came with Simon's sex sounds still in his ears. When Baz could open his eyes again, he saw that Snow was still on his back, but with both hands above his head and his breath beginning to slow.

A short while later, Snow got up and went to the bathroom. Baz cast a quick **Clean as a Whistle** on himself, then he turned to the wall and slept. He didn't wake up until the sun was streaming in the window. (It was open.) (Snow beat him at that too.)

After that it happened every night. Snow always waited in his bed until Baz returned from hunting. (He had started to feed earlier.) (Snow had started to stay up later.) As soon as the light was out, Snow would reach for his cock and start to move. Baz always waited until Snow had himself firmly in hand, and then he would take his own cock. It became a routine. Baz could no longer pretend that Snow wasn't very aware of what they were doing. But they never acknowledged it to each other. Neither spoke once the light was out. When the sun was up, everything was as it had always been.


	3. Rule 3. We Take Turns

Three weeks into their nightly activities, Baz decided to shake things up a bit. He skipped hunting. He had fed especially well the previous night and felt like he had enough blood to manage what he had planned. 

They both sat in the room studying after dinner. Baz was looking forward to Snow's reaction once it became obvious that he was not going to the catacombs. He was disappointed when no reaction came. Snow didn't act like anything had happened at all. Sure, Baz skipped nights occasionally, and most nights he didn't go out until after Snow was asleep anyway. But that had been before. Things were different now.

Baz took his pyjamas from his wardrobe and headed to the bathroom.

“Baz, I was just going to take a shower. Can you wait?”

“I want to brush my teeth and change, Snow. You wait.”

“My shower takes less time than your stuff takes.”

“Yes, and that's nothing to brag about.”

“I'm clean!”

“Barely.”

“Seriously Baz, just move. I have to piss.”

“Cretin.” Baz let him go.

When they were both in bed, Snow spelled the light off. (He was allowed to do that now.) (He hadn't blown the bulbs in a long time.) Baz immediately shoved his hand down his pants. He didn't even look at Snow right away. He just reached in and started his long, slow strokes. He was already half hard in anticipation of his plan. He wanted to make it last, too.

It didn't take long for Simon to catch on. There was a bit of a pause after he got himself into position. He was clearly thrown off by the fact that Baz didn't wait for him. But then he went about his business. Baz outlasted Simon, but he would have even if he hadn't been trying. Simon came much faster than usual that night. 

From that night on, they took turns. As soon as the light was off Baz would either shove his hand down his pants, or wait for Simon to move first. 

Once this pattern had been firmly established, Baz wanted to see what would happen if he broke the rules (there were definitely rules) (unspoken rules) (it was all unspoken.) Baz didn't go first even though it was his turn. The light was out, but Baz just lay back on his bed, with both hands on top of the covers. Simon waited. For half an hour, he waited. He didn't sleep, but he didn't touch himself either. It was such a turn on that Baz couldn't hold out any longer. When he finally reached down and grabbed himself, he heard an undeniable sigh of relief from the next bed. Baz did not outlast Simon that night.

Still, they never spoke of it. Not a word, not a hint, not a loaded look. Night-Baz and Night-Simon didn't exist in the daylight. 

Snow and Wellbelove broke up. Baz didn't mention it.


	4. Rule 4. No Sleeping Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to step things up.

Baz stopped being quiet at night. He stopped biting his tongue or his lip or his other hand to keep from making noises. He moaned, loudly. He still had to restrain himself from crying out “Simon!” when he was having a particularly amazing orgasm. He did cry out, he just managed to make it unintelligible. 

Simon was not holding back either. His little grunts from the beginning became all kinds of delicious sex noises. His moans were the most erotic thing Baz had ever heard. 

They stopped reaching in their pants and just undressed themselves as soon as the light was out. They kicked off their covers. 

Baz was absolutely sure that Simon knew about his vampire vision because he put on a show every night. He hid nothing, completely naked with the covers bunched at the foot of the bed. He angled his body toward the other bed so Baz could really see what he was doing. He stroked slowly and deliberately. He reached down and fondled his bollocks with his right hand while his left was wrapped around his cock. 

Baz performed for Simon as well, even though Simon couldn't see. Instead of just lying on his back, he tried a different position each night. He rolled over and rutted into his mattress. He sat up on his heels with his back to the wall. He leaned over, holding himself up with one hand while he pumped his cock with the other. But one night Baz noticed that the moonlight coming through their window had gotten a lot brighter. When the moon was full, he knew Simon could really see, and that excited him even more.

*******

The next time the moon was a sliver and the room was completely dark, Snow didn't take off his pyjamas when the light went out. Baz kept his pyjamas on as well, even though he was anxious to strip down. Baz was annoyed because it was Snow's turn. They had rules. 

Snow swung his legs around and sat on the side of his bed for so long that Baz began to worry he was ill. Then he stood and took the three steps to Baz's bed. He sat on the edge and nudged Baz's hip. Baz scooted to the right and Simon lay down on his back. Their sides were touching from shoulder to ankle. Simon reached into his pants with his left hand. Baz did the same with his right hand. 

They kept themselves covered just like they had in the beginning. The proximity was enough by itself. They looked straight up at the ceiling, not daring to have their faces any closer. Baz felt Simon trembling after he came. He was trembling against Simon as well. 

Baz spelled them both clean, and then Snow went back to his bed.

*******

Simon continued to crawl into Baz's bed every night as soon as the light was out. If it was Baz's turn, Simon simply lay beside him until Baz got things started. Simon continued to go back to his own bed after Baz spelled them both clean. (They did not take turns at that task, it was too delicate an area to be trusted to Snow's faulty magic.) 

Still they never talked about it. Neither of them spoke a word at night. Baz taught himself to cast the cleaning spell silently. The days continued as they always had. The nights continued ceasing to exist when the sun rose.


	5. Rule 5. No Touching Above the Waist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall I step it up some more?

Just as when they were in separate beds, they became more bold next to each other over time. Their sex noises came back. The covers were pushed away. The pajama bottoms disappeared. Simon was usually the one to step things up. He thought less and acted more quickly and had always been the more courageous of the two.

They didn't move their bodies like before, though. They were held to their side-by-side position due to the constraints of the narrow bed. They also kept their eyes on the ceiling. They couldn't risk looking at each other that close up. A lot could be said with just your eyes. It would be crossing a line.

Simon touched Baz first. (Not counting where their sides were pressed together.) Simon let his right hand rest on Baz's bare hip, and when Baz didn't flinch (it took every ounce of Baz's self-control to not flinch) he left it there. Simon kept his right hand on Baz's hip while he proceeded to make himself come with his left hand. Baz's skin burned under Simon's hand, in the best possible way. He made himself savor the moment because he couldn't let himself think of it afterward. Otherwise he'd never make it through his day.

The next night Baz reached out and then they were both resting a hand on the hip next to them. A few nights after that, Baz let his left hand slide over Simon's hip until he felt coarse curls against his little finger. He was happy to trade having all of his fingers in the bronze curls he'd always dreamt of for having those curls wrap around his little finger, if that was all he was ever going to have. (That was a lie.) (Baz still wanted both.) 

*******

It was early November, and the moon was dark. They lay side by side, naked in Baz's bed. It was Simon's turn, but he hesitated. Baz felt him tense, and suck in his breath. 

Simon raised his right hand and held it over Baz's crotch. He slowly, painfully slowly, lowered it until his palm lay flat against Baz's erection. Just his palm. Just right there. Baz almost came right then. He took a few shallow breaths and Simon stayed completely still. 

Without thinking too hard, Baz reached over with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around Simon's cock. Then Simon gripped Baz and they began to move. They both came within seconds. 

When it was Baz's turn the next night, there was no hesitation. Baz concentrated on touching Simon the way he had seen him touch himself. Simon did the same. The both lasted longer that time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have probably gone too far, but neither of them will back off. They are soooo in denial about reality. It has to break, right? 
> 
> 2 more chapters to go...
> 
> *Correction, 3 more chapters.


	6. Rule 6. This Doesn't Happen Outside of Our Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting to the good stuff.

Baz was especially snappy and cruel as Christmas break approached. He and Snow fought so much that it was like Third Year all over again. Baz could tell that Snow was making an effort to avoid being near him and a staircase at the same time. 

In spite of all that, when Baz discovered that Snow had nowhere to go over break, he talked him into spending the holidays at Pitch Manor. It took half a day and multiple insults to get Snow to agree.

On the first night of break, Baz changed into pyjamas and got into his big gargoyle-covered bed. Snow had been given the guest room across the hall. Baz spelled the lights off, then heard a knock. He slid out of bed, not bothering to turn the lights back on, and crossed the room to the door. It was Simon. (He knew it would be Simon.) (He hoped it would be Simon.) 

Snow told Baz that he couldn't sleep because of the wraiths. They were hanging out under the bed and making too much noise, and also possibly freaking him out a little. (Baz had told him the house was haunted, what did he expect?) Baz rolled his eyes, sneered, and told Snow to come in and sleep on his couch.

Snow closed the door, and Baz just stood there in the dark. He should have been turning on the light and settling Snow on the couch. 

Because he's weak, because he's a constant disappointment to himself, he reached for Simon's hand. Simon felt for Baz's face, then brought their lips together and kissed him. 

It was soft at first. Baz wasn't sure what to do. He just let Simon lead and let himself enjoy being kissed for the first time. He began to respond, to move his mouth against Simon. Simon was doing this thing with his chin that was making Baz melt. He felt Simon's tongue run along his bottom lip, and when he gasped, the tongue moved into his mouth. He wanted to taste Simon, so he moved his tongue as well. He tasted sweet, and a little like cinnamon. Baz thought he was delicious.

Simon ran one hand through the hair at the nape of Baz's neck, and fisted his other hand in the hair near his temple. Baz quickly reached for the bronze curls he'd dreamed of touching for so long. They were so much softer than he expected. 

They stood there with their hands in each other's hair while Simon kissed Baz senseless. When Baz's legs started to tire, he moved his arms to Simon's waist and walked them back to the bed. Baz fell back and Simon followed, crawling up on all fours over him, barely breaking the kiss.

They kissed for hours. Just kissed. They kissed until their mouths were sore. Simon pulled his mouth from Baz and began to kiss his face. He kissed his widow's peak. He kissed the crooked part of his nose. He kissed his sharp cheekbone. He nipped at Baz's earlobe and made him gasp. Simon found a spot below his ear that made Baz moan. 

Simon kissed down Baz's neck, pausing to lightly suck on his adam's apple. That earned him another moan. He continued to Baz's collarbone, then to as much skin as he could touch without unbuttoning Baz's pyjama shirt. Simon's kisses were fire, and Baz didn't care if he burned alive. He fisted his hands in Simon's hair again and guided him back to his mouth. 

Baz couldn't believe how good it all felt. It was so different from what he'd felt with Simon during the nights at Watford. It was deeper. It was softer. It was better. Each boy was focused more on enjoying the other, instead of just getting each other off. They were connected in a way they'd never been before.

When they both needed to breathe again, Baz pulled away. Then he allowed himself to do the thing he'd wanted to do since he was 11. He kissed the mole on Simon's cheek. Then he took his time kissing every mole he could see. Every mole he had cataloged and then kissed in his dreams. 

After he'd kissed all the moles, Baz kissed the rest of Simon's face. He licked Simon's neck. He mouthed just under the collar of Simon's Watford pyjamas. He memorized every spot that made Simon gasp and moan and tucked the knowledge away for future reference.

They were careful to keep their lower bodies apart. It was like they both sensed that this should be kept separate from what they'd done in their room. They just kissed. And then Simon nestled his head under Baz's chin and they slept. 

When Baz woke the next morning, Simon was asleep on the couch like nothing had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving town tomorrow and I won't have access to my writing, so I'm going to go ahead and upload the last 3 chapters tonight. Enjoy!


	7. Rule 7. Rules Are Rules

Their first full day of break was a contrast to their Watford days as well. They didn't pretend to be happy boyfriends, they didn't touch, and they didn't talk about what happened at night. But they'd never been so relaxed around each other. They bickered like an old married couple, but they didn't fight. They laughed and talked and threw snowballs at each other. Simon and Mordelia ganged up on Baz, which was grossly unfair. But Baz couldn't keep from smiling. He still won of course. 

Baz's family seemed to like Simon too. He easily charmed the younger sisters, and Daphne too. Baz's father was the exception, but he was expert at hiding his emotions. He easily hid the hostility he felt toward the Mage's Heir, even though Baz and Simon both knew it was there.

Baz told his stepmother about Simon's fear of the wraiths, so she made up the couch in Baz's room. They took turns changing in the bathroom next door, then Simon settled on the couch, and Baz settled in his bed. 

They said good night to each other, and Baz turned out the light. He held his breath. He watched Simon shift around on the couch for a while, waiting for the moment he would stand and walk to Baz's bed. That moment didn't arrive. Simon finally stilled, but Baz knew he wasn't sleeping. 

All of a sudden, he realized what Simon was waiting for. It was Baz's turn. Rules. 

Baz walked over to the couch and crouched down so he was even with Simon. He put his hands on either side of Simon's face and slowly brought their lips together.

The position was too awkward to hold for long, so Baz reluctantly separated their mouths and stood to stretch his legs. Simon stood too. Hand in hand they walked to Baz's bed. 

Simon took his shirt off and Baz followed suit. They laid down side by side, then Baz put his arms around Simon's waist and twisted so that Simon was on top of him. Simon took Baz's hand from his waist and held it to the mattress next to Baz's ear. Kissing with their fingers laced together while Simon's bare chest pressed against his own felt more intimate to Baz than holding Simon's cock in his hand. 

Baz shivered, then pulled away. He knew several more moles had been uncovered when Simon removed his shirt. He pushed Simon back to the bed and proceeded to kiss each one he found. 

Simon took over and pushed Baz back again. He kissed further down Baz's chest. When he got to Baz's stomach, he stayed for a while. Simon drew little circles with his finger while he watched Baz's reaction. 

Simon leaned in and kissed Baz right below his navel. And then he licked. Simon licked right along the waistband of Baz's pyjama bottoms. Then he placed kisses in a row from the right hip to the left. Baz was out of his mind. He wanted to tell Simon to Slow Down, but talking was against the rules.

Baz reached down and pulled Simon back to his mouth. 

Simon pressed his body against him, and Baz could feel his erection. He pushed his knee between Simon's legs and Simon started to grind into Baz's thigh. Baz pressed himself into Simon's hip and began to grind as well. 

Baz reached between them and took Simon's impossibly hard cock out of his pants. He was delirious with want. With need. 

Simon pulled away, so Baz let go. He was afraid he'd broken another rule; was No Kissing and Cocks at the Same Time a rule? Baz couldn't think anymore.

But all Simon was doing was taking his pants off. And then he was tugging at Baz's pyjamas. With both of them completely naked and facing each other, they slowly moved together until, for the first time, Baz's cock was right up against Simon's. It felt so different from only having their hands on each other. It was incredibly erotic. 

They continued to rub against each other, and Baz cast Slippery When Wet. They began to kiss again, because they could. It was open mouthed and sloppy and their tongues fought and it was everything Baz had ever wanted. He reached in between them again and wrapped his long fingers around both cocks together. He pumped slowly, until they were both writhing. When Simon's hand joined his, together they increased the pressure and the pace. 

Baz could feel that Simon was close. He rolled them until he was on top, then concentrated on Simon's cock, knowing by now exactly what he liked best. Simon let go and fisted the sheets with both hands.

Simon was always noisy when he came, but this time instead of moans and grunts, it was just “Baz-Baz-Baz-Baz-Baz.” Hearing his name from Simon's lips pushed Baz over the edge, and when he came he cried out, “Simon!”


	8. Rule 8. Rules are Meant to be Broken

The next morning Baz woke to Simon still curled in his arms, and his morning wood pushing against Baz's hip. It didn't take Baz long to find himself in the same position. 

Simon began to stir, then leaned over to kiss Baz on the mouth. He took note of the fact that they were both hard and started grinding against him. Baz sucked Simon's tongue as their cocks rubbed together. Simon bit Baz's lip, hard enough to bruise but not break the skin. They climaxed calling each other's names again. 

As they lay together in the afterglow, the morning sun came streaming through the window. It was daytime. And things were very very different.

*******

Simon rolled over and sat up on the bed with his back to Baz. Then he crawled to the foot of the bed, still not facing Baz, and found their pyjama bottoms. He put his on and pushed the other pair behind him to Baz. Simon sat on the side of the bed. His head was hanging down and his shoulders were hunched. Baz put on his pyjama pants too, but stayed where he was. He was more than a little scared. He was terrified, really. He didn't want Simon to go. Baz didn't think he could stand any of this anymore.

Simon began to speak. “We have to talk about this. I know I'm not good at words, but we have to talk. Out loud. With words.” 

Baz moved closer, kneeling behind Simon but not touching him. He still felt constrained by the No Touching and Talking at the Same Time rule.

“Baz, I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of pretending that everything is normal all day. I'm tired of pretending that what we do in the dark isn't real. I'm tired of pretending that I'm not thinking about this, thinking about you, every minute of every day and counting the hours until we can do it again. I'm tired of pretending I don't want more.”

That was probably the most Baz had ever heard Simon say in one go, but it was so beautiful that he felt tears prick his eyes. Or maybe the beauty was in hearing Simon say the things that Baz never thought he'd hear, but wanted most of all. 

Baz let himself lean against Simon's back. He put his arms around Simon and rested his chin on his shoulder. Baz sighed. He wasn't equipped for this kind of emotional honesty. He pushed himself to do it anyway. For Simon.

“I don't want to pretend anymore either. I don't want to pretend that I'm not fighting to keep from reaching for your hand when we walk to class. I don't want to pretend that I'm not gay. And I don't want to pretend that I haven't been completely, hopelessly, in love with you since Fifth Year.”

Baz could feel Simon's ridiculous grin against his cheek. 

“I'm tired of pretending that you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” 

That caused Baz to break out in a ridiculous grin. He took a deep breath. It was his turn to speak now. Rules.

“I don't want to pretend that you weren't my first kiss and my first time. I don't want to pretend that I didn't just lose my virginity to you, because even if months of mutual masturbation don't count, what we did last night-”

“And this morning,”

“And this morning, counts. We've had sex, Simon.”

Simon turned around so he was straddling Baz. He put a hand behind Baz's neck and pulled him into another breathtaking kiss. Then Simon sat back, looked into Baz's eyes, and said, “I don't want to pretend that I don't want to keep doing this. I don't want to pretend that I don't want to be your boyfriend.”

Simon leaned in for another kiss, but Baz pulled back. “Snow, the double negatives are getting out of hand. I need clarification. Did you just say you want to be my boyfriend?”

“You called me Simon before.”

“No, I didn't” 

Simon huffed and rolled his eyes. “I want to be your boyfriend during the night and the day. If you want me.”

“What part of 'completely and hopelessly in love with you since Fifth Year' was unclear to you?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Simon. That's a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. Thank you to everyone who's read this. Thank you for all the kudos. Thank you for the comments.
> 
> I didn't know if I could write porn, particularly gay porn, as I am neither gay nor a man. I know there is a lot that stretches probability or is outright wrong or impossible, but it's a story, so I'm going to let myself be ok with it. I just want these boys to love each other and please each other and make each other happy for the rest of their lives.


End file.
